


It's Called Natsu-Yasumi!

by YurikoNeko (AlaxxisSade)



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Beaches, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Holidays, Light Angst, M/M, Summer, Swimsuits, because me, can't believe swimsuits not a tag, every anime has a swimsuit episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-26 22:25:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7592596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlaxxisSade/pseuds/YurikoNeko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To celebrate Conrad Week (totallly belated) and Yuuri Month, here's a three-chapter (I hope) light-hearted (haha) fluff piece!</p><p>Once again: Summer means beaches!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Pack Up and Go!

**Author's Note:**

> Look at that weaboo title... But nothing describes it like 'Natsuyasumi'!

If I were on Earth, summer vacation would have started now.

                “Ahh, it’s so hot~” It’s the kind of weather perfect for playing baseball in, which is why summer is also the Koshien season. If I were on Earth and playing on the high school team, I would be playing in the preliminaries now.

                “Is the heat getting to you, Your Majesty? In that case, please allow your humble servant, Günter to cool down your shoes for you by putting them near my beating chest—”

                That would only make them warmer. And in this case, would it be too spoiled of me to ask for pretty young ladies in summer-appropriate clothes cooling me down with large fans?

                If I asked, Günter would surely volunteer to strip down and act as the fan himself. In order to save myself from that sight—No, I meant, in order to save my reputation as a maou who does not indulge in material pleasures, I must resist the heat.

                But rather than the heat, what’s bothering me more is the restlessness. As expected, summer is the season to be running around, and here I am, sitting behind my desk with a mountain of documents.

                “Oh? You’re still here?”

                Wolfram walks in, looking so genuinely surprised it ticks me off.

                “What do you mean by that? Are you implying that I don’t take my work seriously?”

                “Oh, you definitely take your work seriously. It’s just that you’re not the type to sit still, that’s all.”

                I… can’t argue with that. Sinking down lower behind my documents, I mutter, “You’re still here, so where could I go?”

                “Hmm, as long as you didn’t sneak off with another man behind my back again.” So he says, but both of us know he doesn’t really mean it. After all, unforeseen circumstances aside, he’s always the one following me on my crazy schemes, with Conrad indulging both of us at the sides.

                “By the way, where is Conrad?”

                Wolfram looks a bit put-out. “Out in the courtyard training the soldiers, if you’re that interested to know.”

                “In this heat!?”

                The look he gives me makes me turn red to the roots of my ears. “Of course. Do you think soldiers get to choose what weather they fight under?”

                “Well, on Earth we have something called summer vacations, for when it gets too hot to study…”

                Günter’s expression lights up – he always seems so excited to learn more about Earth—but Wolf looks suspicious. “So you’re saying that when the weather gets hot, people just stop working? That just sounds lazy to me.”

                Uh-oh, that’s a major miscommunication right there. Still, to hear Japanese people called lazy… I never thought I’d see the day.

                “No, no, adults keep on working. Too much, in fact…” I furrow my brow, thinking hard. “Wolf, when was the last time Conrad had a vacation?”

                “Huh? Lord Weller doesn’t need such a thing.”

                “What?” I think I just heard something that goes against human rights—even though we’re not human. “He doesn’t have holidays at all?”

                “Why would he need any?”

                “And what are his working hours?”

                “He’s your personal guard, Yuuri. Do you think he has working hours?”

                “That’s not right!” I stand up abruptly, slamming my hand onto the table. “We have to give him his basic labor rights!”

                “You just want to go on a proper vacation with him…” Wolfram reads my thoughts out loud, and then shrugs. “Whatever, as long as I’m coming along.”

 

The thing is, we’ve been around a lot, but most of it involved world-ending, life-threatening or at the very least, diplomatic-ties-ruining crises. What we really need, I figure, is an actual, relaxing vacation.

                “No.”

                This part isn’t relaxing, though.

                “I’m not going to help you,” Wolfram says, crossing his arms as he leans on the wall. I give him a withering look, and turn back to Gwen. It takes quite a bit of force of will, actually.

                Gwendal’s expression right now, is what comes to everybody’s mind when I say ‘Demon King’.

                “If you want to take a break and be known a lazy monarch, that’s up to you. After all, I’m more than used to doing all the work you’re supposed to. But if you come in here and demand that soldiers get holidays—” Lord von Voltaire takes a deep breath, looking as though he might burst a blood vessel. “I politely suggest that you might be out of your mind, Your Majesty. What happens if an enemy decides to attack when our men are on their ‘summer vacation’?”

                I find myself at a loss for words. After all, even in Japan, the government is still trying to get people to take days off. It seems like I have a long way ahead of me to instill a healthy work culture here in Shin Makoku.

                “Come to think of it, Brother, when’s the last time you had a day off?” Wolfram interrupts suddenly, his tone deceptively light. “Could it be that you’re just jealous Yuuri wants to give Conrad a holiday when you don’t get one? Or maybe you just want a holiday yourself?”

                “W-what are you saying!? Of course—” But he doesn’t complete the sentence.

                “Gwen, when’s the last time you—”

                “Never.”

                “Huh?”

                “I never had a holiday.”

                “Never!?”

                “Being nobility is a full time job,” Wolfram pitches in. “Especially being the leader of a territory. Even when you’re off duty, you have to act the part, and be ready to meet any emergencies that might arise.”

                That’s like being a doctor on-call 24/7. I can’t help but look at Gwendal under a new light. And this time, I can practically see ‘death from overwork’ written onto his forehead.

                “Besides,” Wolfram continues casually, looking at the ceiling, “no one can stop the maou from taking a holiday. In that case, as his personal guard, Lord Weller will have to follow, and cannot disobey if His Majesty ‘orders’ him to relax.”

                Gwendal grits his teeth. “So I cannot stop you. Why then come ask me?”

                I look at Wolfram again, but this time he avoids my gaze. Well, he did say he wouldn’t help me—I chuckle to myself. So much for not helping.

                “We were wondering if you wanted to come along, Gwen.”

                The first son opens his mouth, then closes it again. He blinks, then puts his hand on his temple and just sighs.

                “Uh… is that a no?”

                “Your Majesty, please understand that I—”

                The doors to Lord von Voltaire’s office suddenly fly open, and the self-proclaimed Everyone’s Favorite Spy saunters in.

                “Boss, just a heads-up, but word on the grapevine is that Anissina-chan has finally come out of her lab, cackling like kotsuhizoku in ice. Makes you wonder what kind of prototype she spent three months on, doesn’t it?”

                “—would be very much honored to take you up on your offer. May I know when we depart?”

                Gwendal’s eyes are screaming to me, ‘Please say now’.

 

The next morning, we take off to the von Karbelnikoff lands.

                Why Karbelnikoff?

                “It has the best tourism in the country,” Gwendal says testily. “Your Majesty should remember at least this much about your own kingdom.”

                “Also, it’s where Anissina-chan is coming from,” Josak sounds cheerful. “His Excellency is hoping we’ll secretly pass her by on the way, then she’ll reach Blood Pledge Castle and take longer to discover where we went.”

                “But most importantly,” Conrad sighs, “is that the territory is coastal, and famous for its beaches.”

                “Can we swim?” Greta asks excitedly.

                “No looking at other men!” Wolfram, of course.

                “Have fun, Your Majesty!” There’s Dacascos, waving us off because no one wants to bring a spotlight to a beach.

                Hmm? Why does it feel like we’re forgetting someone?

                _“Your Majesty… Don’t leave me…”_

                “Ah!” How could I forget!

                _“Your Majesty…! You noticed me!”_

“Has anyone seen Murata?” I look around for that familiar black hair amidst the crowd. Wait, what’s that quivering mass in the corner over there…

                “Yoo-hoo, Shibuya! Over here!”

                I turn around, only to see that somehow, Murata is already in the carriage and decked out in full beach gear.

                “Murata… We won’t reach the beach for at least a day…”

               “Who cares, this is to ward off the heat!” He spins around in his Hawaiian print shorts and pulls down his sunglasses. Can you even see with those? “Before you ask, Shibuya, these are custom-made sunglasses that have the same power as my regular glasses.”

                “When did you even prepare those!? We only decided to go to the beach yesterday, and I forgot to tell you!”

                “We Meganezu must always be prepared, and by the way, I’m hurt that you forgot me. I know I spend a lot of time at the Mausoleum, but to think that Shibuya is one of those people that believe in ‘out of sight, out of mind’…”

                “Yuuri, what does that mean? Do you not think of me when we’re apart?”

                “How could you, Shibuya? I’m so disappointed in you.”

                “That’s it! Yuuri, I’m never leaving your sight again!”

                “Wolf, calm down,” I keep my raging fiancé’s claws away from my face, pleading with my best friend, “I’m sorry I forgot you, it was all my fault, please don’t say such misleading things ever again…”

                Murata looks at me for just a fraction of a second longer, and then pushes his sunglasses back up, hiding his eyes and turning to face the front of the carriage. “Well, at least it’s better than being forgotten while in plain sight.”

                “Eh?”

                _“Your Majesty…”_

Summer is also the season of ghost stories, but I never expected one to come out during the day.

                “Uwaa!”

                _“Your Majesty… Are you going to leave me behind again…”_

“G-Günter!?” I yelp, feeling his cold clammy breath on the back of my neck. “O-of course not! Of course you can come!”

                “Really!?” And just like that he’s back to normal, sparkling in the summer sun and threatening to pour.

                Gwendal holds his head. “Your Majesty, someone has to stay back—”

                “Don’t you dare, Gwendal! It’s my turn to go on a trip with His Majesty!”

                “There, there,” I stand in between my two most senior advisors, wondering where on earth this went wrong.

                “Father, behave yourself!” A voice strikes out like a crack of the whip, and quickly becomes the angel’s horn, saving us all. “In any case, I shall stay behind.”

                “Oh, Gisela, thank ymph—”

                “I get it, I get it. Just get those juices away from me.”

                Greta is watching them with bright eyes, then she turns to me in all seriousness, “Yuuri, one day I will do that for you as well.”

                What, push me away with your palm and stomp on my foot?

*

When the entourage finally takes off, the one most relieved is actually Gisela. Finally, some peace and quiet.

                “Geez, these boys…”

                She stares for a while at the mountain of papers, then resigns herself to sitting behind the desk. She can’t sign anything official, but for now she can go through the documents and sort them out.

                Actually, it’s been a while since the castle was this quiet. At one point she puts down her pen and allows herself to space out.

                Think of it as her version of a holiday.

                Come to think of it, it’s almost _that_ day again—Now that she is alone, it’s okay to think of that, right?

                The summer sky is so blue… just like those person’s eyes were.

                She closes her eyes. The time to mourn has long passed, but sometimes she rather thinks she deserves a break.

                A minute passes in relative silence, and then a bunch of rowdy soldiers walks past the room, unaware that she is inside, reveling in the freedom of not having Lord von Voltaire or Lord Weller presiding over them.

                Gisela opens her eyes. Her break is over.

                And as much as she likes the silence, she is much more used to… the tortured howls of disobedient soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, for a Conrad tribute there isn't much Conrad... in this chapter, anyway.


	2. Summer Sun and Showed-off Skin!?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the summer sun, swimsuits and youthful blood lead to some interesting scenarios.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the legendary Conrad chapter?
> 
> P.S. I really need to lay off the alliteration...

Summer at the beach! Sun! Sea! Sand! And sexy—

                “Your Majesty~~”

                --dripping old men in S&M bondage bikinis.

                “Don’t look,” Conrad sighs, covering my eyes from the carnage as Wolfram proceeds to clean up the mess. You know, Godfather, you’re wearing even less material than Günter.

                Where are all the pretty girls…?

                “You’re wondering why there aren’t any pretty girls, aren’t you?” Murata licks a blue popsicle. “I hope you’re not fantasizing about using your power as the maou to order all the maids into swimsuits.”

                “O-of course not!” Wolfram would kill me!

                “Oh? You really do care what Lord von Bielefeld thinks, don’t you?”

                “Of course I do, he’s my— Wait, I didn’t say that out loud! Have you finally learned to mind-read, Murata?”

                The man once, and sometimes still, known as the Sage just shakes his head sadly. “He has you wrapped around his finger. I’m mourning your dignity as a man, Shibuya.”

                “I-is that so?” I have no idea how to keep up this conversation, so I change the subject. “By the way, has anyone seen Gwen?”

                “Hmm? I think I saw him with Gurrier.” Conrad’s hand reaches for his waist, and he seems a little confused to find his sword missing. Wouldn’t it be weirder for him to wear his sword with a bikini?

                I look down his body rather enviously before I remember what I was going to say. “Conrad, you know I brought you here to relax, right?”

                “Naturally.” He flashes me his most brilliant housewife-killer smile. If I was a lady, of any age and race, I would have melted like Murata’s popsicle. “That was very kind of you, Yuuri. I must say, I am enjoying myself tremendously.”

                I stare at him. In the corner of my eye, a flash of white runs past us, chased by a streak of blonde. Günter really is frighteningly pale, with not a single scar on his perfect skin. Which is a lot more skin than I would have liked to see on him. But then again, that’s what beaches are for.

                “Conrad, lie down on your chest.”

                “Is that an order?”

                “If you want it to be.” I do a few quick stretches, then crack all my fingers. “Brace yourself, cuz this might hurt a little.”

                As expected of my most loyal guard and idiot godfather, he doesn’t even put up a fight. If it were Wolf, he’d be trying to push me down instead by now. Even Josak would be saying something suggestive. As for Conrad?  He just lays there in the sand, closing his eyes and trusting himself completely to me.

                Well, it’s a bit strange to be doing it in the sand, but…

                I pull at the waistband of my black swimming trousers, feeling the heat. I know black is the sacred color of the maou and all, but don’t they know it’s the color that absorbs the most heat? For the first time, I feel glad that Conrad’s wearing that same annoying bikini he wore at that Svelera swimming pool. He really has a nice body, I think that every time I see it… It’s just kind of sad that his broad back is covered with so many scars.

                Despite myself, I trace my finger down the deepest ones. They must surely hurt like hell.

                “Yuuri…”

                “Shh.”

                “Yuu—ahh!”

                I had barely just started when I notice a curious spectator hiding behind a very inconspicuous bush.

                “Josak… There aren’t supposed to be bushes on the beach.”

                “Oh my, oh my, just pretend I’m not here!” Gurrier seems to be really enjoying the show. “I didn’t think the Young Master was this kind of person, though. To think, in broad daylight—isn’t this kind of thing meant for dark rooms and blind people?”

                “You’re making it sound shady, it’s actually a perfectly legal and proper line of work.”

                I push a little harder, and Conrad moans contentedly.

                “See, I’m good at this. But Conrad, you’re too tense. Loosen up a bit, will ya?”

                As expected, his muscles are hard as rock. Thank goodness, then, that sore muscles are normal after a hard day of training, so I’ve gotten pretty good at this massaging thing. Especially since there are quite a few heartily-aged men in my grasslot team, who are lining up for my skills.

                I’m still not sure if I should be proud of that, but I do also pay attention when my mom is helping out my old man. And it seems like all my experience and observations have come in handy.

                “Ah, I’m jealous,” Josak says, but he’s smiling.

                Conrad’s eyes are closed, his face turned towards Josak. “If you ask nicely, I’m sure Yuuri wouldn’t mind.”

                “Hmm? Ah, that does look good, but that wasn’t what I was talking about. Y’know, Captain, if you ever feel tight again, Gurie-chan would be more than happy to loosen you up~”

                Is it just my imagination, or does Conrad stiffen up even more at that?

                Before I can ask, though, we’re interrupted by a panicked Gwendal. Wait, why is he wearing a fundoshi?

                “S-she’s here!”

                Josak tsks his tongue, but I think I see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “She’s faster than I thought. It can’t be helped, then. Forgive me, Your Excellency!”

                And with those passionate words, he stands up from the bush, showing me his swimsuit for the first time. I turn away instantly.

                Is that—Isn’t that—It looks familiar. But it also looks like two straps of cloth from the shoulders to the crotch.

                He catches me staring, and does a little twirl. “How do you like it, Your Majesty? It’s inspired by designs His Eminence brought from your Earth. I made ones for His Excellency Gwendal and Lord Shiny-Sparkly over there as well, aren’t I so talented at this?”

                Well, that explains a lot.

                “Gurrier, quick!”

                “Ah, yes.” Josak promptly grabs Gwendal’s head, stuffs him into the bush, and then sits on it to complete the disguise. Now it kinda looks like a beach chair…?

                “Gwe—Ah, Your Majesty!” Just in time, Anissina appears on the horizon, and closes in like a zooming red motorcycle. “Gurrier is here too, and—waa!” It takes a lot to surprise Anissina, and nearly stepping on Conrad face-first in the sand seems to be enough. “Lord Weller! I know your loyalty has no bounds, but even if His Majesty orders you to be his personal beach mat, you have a right to fight back!”

                Is that what this looks like to her? Who knew massages were so up for interpretation.

                “Anyway, have any of you seen Gwendal? Don’t lie, I know he came on this vacation with you.”

                “Is that so?” Josak’s eyes wander off to a small thicket away from the sea. “Nope, I haven’t seen him around.”

                “A-ha! He’s over there, isn’t he!? You can’t fool me!”

                He just did. It seems I just witnessed a battle of wits between the seasoned spy and the most brilliant inventor in Shin Makoku, and the score is now one to nothing.

                “Yuuri, I think you can get off me now.”

                “A-ah, okay!” I jump off Conrad’s back a little guiltily. My hands had been working through the distractions, and now his back looks a bit… slightly… black and blue. Should I be glad all that sword training made me stronger?

                We got distracted again for a while by the bush moving away with Josak still perched like a queen on it, then we look at each other and laugh.

                “What a stressful holiday, huh?”

                In the distance, Günter screeches because the sun has turned his white skin a painful-looking pink. Josak jumps off the bush and starts offering him a tube of suspicious liquid.

                “Is that supposed to be sunblock?”

                “I wouldn’t take that if I were him,” Conrad chuckles, looking deeply amused. He does seem a lot more relaxed now, sitting on the sand. I sit down beside him.

                “It’s nice to have a quiet trip for once, isn’t it?”

                “It takes getting used to, not having my sword beside me, but I suppose… I don’t dislike it.”

                “Why are you being so tsundere all of a sudden?” I smack his arm. “…But y’know, I feel kinda guilty, hogging the beach like this.”

                “The owner of this stretch considers it an honor that the maou would visit it personally—”

                “I know, I know.” He wouldn’t stop shaking my hand.

                “And besides, if the people were to see you, in the flesh, and showing off way too much flesh, there would be a stampede.”

                “That way, no one would get to enjoy their summer, huh.” I lie down on the sand. “I guess that comes with being the king.”

                What he doesn’t mention is, if I wanted to play together with the commoners like I do on Earth, then as my personal guard, it would be more like overtime than a vacation for Conrad.

                “Guess I’m still too greedy.” Abusing the rights of the maou to get this vacation and take Conrad with me, then wanting to enjoy myself like a normal person, ignoring the trouble I would be putting all my beloved vassals through— “But on second thoughts, it’s not too bad to have a holiday like this for ourselves.”

                It feels like… Well, I can’t figure out any other way to call it but a ‘family vacation’.

                A little further away, Greta is busy collecting seashells, dressed in her adorable one-piece. The truth is, she’s reaching the age where girls start to want to show off a bit more, but until she mentions it, I’m not going to suggest a thing.

                “Yuuri… If you don’t like it, you can just tell us. It’s your birthday, after all.”

                As I thought, I really am too greedy. “No, it’s okay. Like Murata said, that big celebration is as much about the people as it is about me.” I won’t be so mean as to deny my people a chance to celebrate.

                “But you’re not too happy about it.”

                “What? Why would you say so? Who wouldn’t be happy about having thousands, even millions of people celebrate their birthday?”

                “You, apparently. Now, if it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could tell me why?”

                “…Only if you tell me when your birthday is.”

                Conrad raises an eyebrow. “You’re still harping on that?”

                The way he says it turns my face red. “It’s not like I’m particularly curious or anything—” Ah, now I’m the one who’s acting tsundere. I lower my head. “When I think back on it, I was being a bit presumptuous, wasn’t I? Making my birthday your birthday and all that, I’m surprised you agreed with it.”

                Conrad raises his eyebrow, the white scar standing out against his skin. “Why would you think that?”

                “Well… you always said mazoku don’t celebrate birthdays, right? So I thought, why am I the only one celebrating mine?”

                “Yuuri, you’re the maou—”

                “Did Lady Cheri celebrate hers when she was maou?”

                “Of course not, because that would mean she was getting older.”

                That makes sense… But he’s leading me off topic again! I shake my head furiously. “If I want to be a proper maou, I must first blend in as a mazoku. That means no special treatment.” Before he can interrupt, I continue hotly, “But! As the maou, i-it’s only natural that the people would want to celebrate me.”

                Damn, I know it’s the truth, but it’s so embarrassing to say that myself! I sound like a spoiled pr—No, I mean, I sound like some rich kid with chuunibyo.

                “It’s just that—well, you know how the celebrations get. I rarely have time for myself, much less you guys.”

                It’s funny how I got jealous when my classmates had huge parties, and yet when I have a whole kingdom celebrating for me, all I want is a small banquet with the people who matter.

                “So is this vacation… a sort of birthday trip for yourself?”

                “It’s for you as well, you know. Isn’t your birthday somewhere in summer too? No, not just that, take this as a present for everyone. Since I don’t know anyone’s birthdays, I can’t give anyone presents, and it’s not fair if I’m always only receiving without giving.”

                Connrad chuckles. “That sounds exactly like something you would say. But you know, for me, there’s a lot more to celebrate on that day.”

                “It’s your godfather birthday, right?”

                He shakes his head with a smile. “It’s also our anniversary.”

                “Huh?” My first instinct is to look around and make sure Wolfram wasn’t listening.

                “The anniversary of the day we met.”

                “A-ah, is that so? I mean, yeah, you’re right.”

                I get up, patting the sand off my shorts and offering him a hand. “Come on, we can’t spend the whole day sitting around. Even if there aren’t any pretty girls in bikinis around, there are still lots of things to do on the beach.”

                “Oh? But I thought you were enjoying the sight of my little brother in a bikini as well.”

                “W-well, he looks good in it, so of course I would look! He was still sore about that lady in Svelera saying he didn’t have enough to show off to wear a bikini, so this time he jumped straight at the opportunity… Look, are you going to get up or not? My hand is getting sore.”

                “You go on ahead first, it seems like I got quite a bit of sand to clear out…”

                …Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give him a massage on the beach. Or maybe it’s just not a good idea to wear a bikini?

 

After a whole day of chasing Günter down in the sun, Wolfram finally buried him up to his neck in the sand. Later, when Murata put the watermelon he somehow managed to get rather close to Günter’s head, we all watched and applauded as Conrad showed off his sword skills with a wooden stick and a blindfold, slicing the watermelon cleanly in half while only taking off a few of Günter’s hairs with the impact.

                I think more of Günter’s silver hair turned white after that, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just hate it when sand gets into hard to reach places...? Get your mind out of your gutter, I was talking about underneath your fingernails. 
> 
> Back to business: I wonder if this is pushing it just a bit too far... And to be honest this was not what I had in mind at all, all my gags and other planned events somehow got shoved into the background in exchange for a shady skin-contact scene... Ah well, there's still the last chapter?
> 
> The next chapter: What goes bang in the night!?
> 
> Edit: I can't believe I forgot this, but Josak's swimsuit is basically Papillon's from Busou Renkin XD At first I meant for Gyun to wear it, but y'know, I think Josak can pull it off better~


	3. Summer Night Rendezvous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of beach volleyball during sunset and fireworks in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be Yuuri's chapter, but there seems to be an awful lot of Wolfram...

At one point, I fell asleep under the beach umbrella.

                “O-ow… cramp…”

                Greta is still sleeping with her head on my lap when I wake up, her half-finished necklace of shells hanging from her hand. Carefully I unravel it from her loosened fingers and rest it on the mat next to her.

                “Feeling better now?”

               Wolfram is still weaving his necklace next to us, his fingers working deftly. It’s mesmerizing, how expertly he does it, that I end up staring. It’s like how in those old stories princesses would sit by the window doing their embroidery.

                “Wolf, can I have that when you’re done with it?”

                He looks at me like I’m still half asleep. “Greta said we’re making our own ones.”

                It’s a beachside family project, I know. But I suddenly remembered how those old princesses would give their embroidered handkerchiefs to the wandering samurais, like a traditional version of putting scented love letters into senpai’s locker.

                “I’m not a samurai, but I would like one. A handcrafted love letter.” Besides, we’re quite traditional, aren’t we? Starting off with that ancient proposal method, then the ancient duel method—

                “Why are you smiling like an idiot?”

                “Nothing~ I was just wondering how we managed to get here in the first place.” That was quite the disastrous first meeting, come to think of it. And after that—“We sure went through a lot of obstacles.”

                “You can say that again. I had to beat so many formidable opponents, including and not limited to my own brothers.”

                “What do you mean, opponents?”

                “Yuuri, don’t tell me you still can’t see how they all clamor for your attention?” He ties a knot on the sturdy string, and bites off the remaining thread. The unadultered pretty-boy wildness kind of throws me into a daze for a while, so much so that I almost forget what we were talking about.

                “Is that so? I thought the only ones clamoring for my attention were you and Günter.”

                “Hmph, I never considered him my competition.”

                That’s a lie, why else do you get so agitated whenever he tried to catch me? Like earlier…

                “Even if I know you won’t ever cheat on me again, you can’t stop other people trying to seduce you. And even though I know they won’t get your heart, I don’t want to share your body with anyone else either.” He hangs the completed necklace over my head like putting a collar over a puppy.

                Once, I might have gotten annoyed with his possessiveness and strange choice of words. “Hehehe…”

                “What are you laughing about!?”

                Now, all I can think is how cute he is, and how lucky I am to have him all to myself. But my skin is not thick enough for me to say that yet, so instead I look at the sea.

                “The sunset sure is beautiful, isn’t it?”

                The sun and sea are a brilliant shade of orange, while the sky is the prettiest shade of pink. Even the clouds are wisps of light orange, turning to purple nearer to the other size of the sky where the moon is slowly rising.

                “Hmph, it’s just as beautiful in the capital as well, if you bothered to look.”

                “Mn.” I lace my fingers with his. “Then remind me to watch the sunset with you more often.”

                “Yoo-hoo! Your Majesty!”

                We quickly pull our hands apart, and I pretend to be surprised when Josak comes running up to me. To be fair, it’s not like I'm not the least bit surprised, and just a little bit resentful. But at least nothing’s jangling as he runs.

                “C’mon, Young Master, we’re one person down!”

                Eh? Did you bring a mahjong table to the beach?

                “Hey, I want to join too!”

               Wolf, do you even play mahjong? I mean, you should at least ask what they’re doing before volunteering as tribute.

                “Greta wants in too!”

                “G-Greta!?” Was she awake the whole time!?

                “Yay, then let’s make it a family-themed volleyball game!”

                I still prefer baseball, though.

                Over on the makeshift court, Conrad is waiting for us with a kind smile, while Murata is slowly edging away from the net.

                “Your Eminence! What do you think you’re doing?”

                “I just thought you didn’t need me anymore.” Murata reaches to push up his glasses, before remembering that he’s wearing contact lenses, so his hand continues upwards to flick his hair away from his face like a certain spiky-haired main character. Nice save, Murata, but I’m still mad at you for lying to me about those powered sunglasses.

                “Aww, but I wanna play with Your Eminence!”

                “You say ‘play with me’, but all you do is hit the ball over my head, while Lord Weller aims for my gl—my face.”

                Conad’s kind smile turns even kinder.

                “And besides, I can’t fight against Lord von Bielefeld, who was trained as a soldier since young. I can’t even fight against Shibuya.”

                What’s with that afterthought?

                So it’s two against two? I look around. “Who else was playing just now?”

                “His Excellency, but then Anissina-chan…” Josak’s voice trails off, but what he said was enough.

                “By the way, what’s with that suspiciously moving duffel bag on the side of the court?”

                “Oh, this?” Josak follows my gaze, and pats the bag raucously. No, that’s more like slapping than patting now. “Just some snacks. You know, even ladies like me get a little hungry after strenuous exercise.”

                That’s not just ‘a little’ hungry anymore. And Gurrier, you seem way too happy that you get to ‘eat’ Lord von Voltaire.

                But in order to save Gwendal from death by experimentation, I decide not to say anything. I can’t but help wonder, though, if this holiday is as relaxing for Gwen as I’d hoped it would be.

                Greta stares at the tall net, and wisely says, “I wanna be the referee!”

                “Then I’ll be the score-keeper.” Murata moves over to the scoreboard – who prepares all these things!?—and rubs off the existing team names. “Who’s in which team now?”

                “I want to be with His Majesty!” Josak pounces on my shoulders, squeezing my head in his pecs. At times like this, I kinda miss Lady Cherie. It’s giving me a headache.

                “Then the other side will be a team of brothers?”

                “Gurrier, get away from my fiancé!” Wolfram jabs a finger at Josak, looking like an angry angel of war in the sunset.

                “If you want him, you’ll have to defeat me first!”

                “What do you mean, Josak?” I poke him in the solar plexus. Damn, even that part is hard as rock. “They’ll have to defeat both of us.”

                “Yuuri!?”

                I meet Wolfram’s emerald eyes, and I know my own must be shining oddly. “Wolf, what’s the score between us?”

                As expected of my fiancé, he catches on quickly. “I see.” He starts to turn his neck left and right, stretching out his hands and feet. “Today we settle the score.”

                “The loser has to do one thing for the winner.”

                “Fine by me.”

                “Oh? This is like déjà vu.” Murata looks between Wolfram and me, and then to Conrad and Josak amusedly. “I’m almost jealous, it must be nice to have a proper RIVAL.”

                I look above my shoulder to Gurrier, who gives me a wink. “Do you hear that, Young Master? That’s why tonight we can’t lose to them, okay?”

                You mean today. But true, it’s almost nighttime.

                “We settle this before sundown!”

                “Yeah!”

                “Ah, the power of youth…” Günter’s sigh comes from somewhere near our feet, and is muffled when the first serve hits him straight in the face.

 

After sundown, we all return to the nearby resort for a bath before doing what I’d always wanted to do on a beach at night—have a barbeque around the bonfire.

                The air is warm and humid from the sea foam, but it’s still a bit too cold (and silly) to wear our sandy swimsuits at night as well. That’s why I’m glad Günter had ordered a new set of yukatas for us all, fixing some of the obvious issues with the previous design from that matsuri they organized last time, even though we’re nowhere near a shrine now. If there’s anything bad about the situation, it’s now I can’t help but stare at all the wide open chests, especially Günter’s.

                “Ah, no~ Stop, Your Majesty, stop looking at me~”

                I want to stop, too, but there’s just some morbid fascination that keeps me staring. It’s the result of his easily-sunburned skin, then that shady ‘Quinn’s Invention’ sunblock Josak gave him, plus that BDSM-style swimsuit…

                “He looks like a ganguro okapi.”

                Unfortunately, only Murata would understand that joke.

                “Here you go, Yuuri.” Conrad gives me a fish he just finished cooking, and Josak immediately protests.

                “Captain! Where’s my portion?”

                “Coming right up,” Conrad smiles wryly, and while he’s distracted I pass the fish to Greta, saying, “Little girls can’t afford to go hungry.”

                “Eh? Then what about you, Yuuri?”

                “Don’t worry, I can make one for—”

                Before I can finish the sentence, Wolfram takes the empty stick from my hand and exchanges it for another cooked fish.

                “Wolf…”

                “No need to thank me.”

                “No, what I was going to say is, don’t think you can get away with just this.”

                And with that I have the pleasure of seeing him stiffen up, his face red in the firelight.

                Yup, that’s right. Team JoYuu won the Shin Makoku first ever beach volleyball tournament just now.

                “That’s not fair!” Wolfram hisses in a low voice. “Conrad was holding back!”

                “Now, now, don’t be a sore loser~ Even though you still look cute doing it.” Crap, did I say that out loud?

                Wolf glares at me sideways. “Look at them and tell me he didn’t do it on purpose.”

                As the winner in their match-off, Josak ordered Conrad to be his servant for the night. Usually the only person Conrad served was me, but since we were on holiday and the area was secure, it seems Conrad could make an exception tonight—or maybe Gwendal was just too occupied to stop them.

                “Now that you mention it, Conrad sure looks happy for a servant, and Gurrier pulled him into the bath as well—Could he be a natural M?”

                “No way, he’s definitely an S.” Murata cuts in immediately.

                “…You know, it’s bad to eavesdrop. And how are you so sure? You don’t know him that well, do you?” And you were really against him in the beginning too, back when he was still on the other side.

                “It’s true I’m not that familiar with him, but Gurie-chan knows him best.” So at night, no matter where, Gurrier is now Gurie-chan?

                Now Wolfram is curious too. “Does Gurrier talk to you a lot about my brother?”

                “Hmm, not really. Not anymore than he does about the other guys at his bar, or you, Yuuri.”

                Maybe it’s because he knows you won’t be interested in listening to him talk about Conrad?

                “Is that so?” Conrad says suddenly from over my shoulder. You know, eavesdropping is really bad! Bad for my heart, too! “Pray, tell me more. What does he say about me?”

                Lord Weller sure is inquisitive tonight.

                “If you wanna know, Cap’n, you could just ask me.” Josak is sitting with his legs crossed, and the yukata isn’t doing much to hide anything. I look away instantly, but I catch Conrad staring for a second too long before Gwendal finally snaps at them to behave.

                Poor Gwen, he looks even crankier than ever. I would be, too, if I were pressed under the sea and nearly drowned trying to hide from the Poison Lady. Drowning in three feet of seawater-- what a way to go that would be, for a mazoku as strong and as esteemed as Lord von Voltaire.

                “A-ha! I knew you would come out of hiding eventually, Gwendal!”

                If summer was the season of ghost stories, Anissina would be the star of the night. But this time, Gwendal isn’t scared anymore.

                “Come at me, then! I’m done running!”

                He spreads his arms wide, his eyes closed and his face raised, like a big black lamb to the slaughter. Is this the legendary summer night test of courage?

                We watch helplessly as the Red Devil swoops down onto the brave Lord von Voltaire, and I hurry to cover Greta’s eyes as she bites his face off—Eh?

                “This isn’t for little girls,” Wolfram says nonchalantly, and closes Greta’s eyes anyway.

                “No fair, I wanna see!” Greta protests, but as expected of my obedient daughter, she doesn’t pull Wolfram’s fingers away.

                “Ah,” Murata says smugly, “summer is also the season of romance.”

                Is it? Gwen looks more shell-shocked than lovestruck, though.

                “Hm, the experiment seems to be a resounding success.” Anissina smacks her lips, and then wipes the suggestive-looking liquid off them. “With this, all women will have a secret weapon against perverted men lurking in the alleys. I call it, ‘Knock Men Out With Your Lips-chan’!”

                “I see, it’s a lipstick-chan… Uh, congratulations again, Anissina.”

                “Thank you for your kind words, Your Majesty. To be honest, this was just a prototype, and even I am amazed at my own genius, to think it would work so well even against an above-average maryoku user like Gwendal—”

                No, I think it works so well because it’s Gwendal.

                Wolf and I exchange knowing looks, and burst out laughing.

               

“All in all, today went pretty well, didn’t it?”

                “Mn.” Wolfram pinches the end of a stick lightly, and it soon sparkles to life. Even the mazoku here know that fireworks are a prerequisite of summer nights, but after that disastrous disaster with Gwendal in space… And well, maybe we are all a little reluctant to break the quiet of the beach at night, with nothing more than the sound of low chatter and lapping waves.

                “I mean, it ended well for Gwendal, right? And, uh, Günter…”

                “Don’t worry about him, he enjoyed the view thoroughly.”

                “The view, huh…”

                “Yes, the view up your boxers from when you were jumping to hit the volleyball.”

                “…!” Dammit, next time I’m wearing a bikini for sure!

                “By the way, I’m still waiting for this.” Wolfram prods my chest—or rather, the seashell necklace hanging around it. “When are you going to be done with yours?”

                “Uh…”

                “Well, it doesn’t matter, I can wait.”

                The way he says it, tells me that we have the rest of our lives to wait together.

                “…Y’know, Wolf, doesn’t it feel that everyone knows?”

                He just shrugs in reply.

                “I mean, it’s not like I’m trying to hide it or anything…” We’re such a traditional couple, that we only properly fell in love after being engaged so long. It’s like an arranged marriage that ends up becoming a love marriage, so the rest of the family should be happy, right? But for some reason, I don’t know how to tell them that we’ve graduated backwards from fiancés to l—l—lov—

                I can’t say it.

                I slump my shoulders. This is why Wolfram still calls me a wimp.

                There’s a light tap on the back of my head, and I turn around. Wolfram’s murmuring something under his breath, but his eyes smile at me, and with his sparkler he traces those little words into the air.

                I see, so there are other ways to say it without speaking.

                Just as I draw the wobbly heart shape in the crisp night air, Wolfram finishes his incantation, and suddenly, the night sky is lit up by little bobs of light. Tiny fireflies, lighting every contour on his face, the way his blonde hair still sticks to his forehead from the bath earlier, his curly long eyelashes, his smooth skin, too used to the sun to be baked in one day…

                “…Beautiful.”

                “Isn’t it?” Wolfram stops appraising his masterpiece and turns to me, his expression so childishly smug I can’t help myself.

                I hold the sparkler up to our faces so I can see him better, but close my eyes anyway when our lips meet.

 

 

“So now you know…”

                “So what if they know? It’s not like that’s going to change anything between us.”

                “To be honest, Your Majesty—”

                “Call me Yuuri, godfather.”

                “Yuuri, even if we didn’t suspect anything before, we would have known from the moment the resort owner put you in the same room and you didn’t even protest.”

                “On the contrary, the Young Master looked like a teenage boy outside the red light district. Ah, is that why you suggested that, for the volleyball game…”

                “Your Majesty, may I ask what you’re planning to do with my younger brother?”

                “Oh, Your Majesty, Günter is so disappointed in you…”

                “Shh, Greta, don’t listen to them.”

                “Ehh, but Anissina~”

                “Shibuya, the family you’re marrying into sure is lively.”

                “…Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, I just wanted to write that scene with the sparklers and fireflies. Yay for fire-wielding mazokus, right?
> 
> So it's 29th here, meaning I ended up posting on Yuuri's birthday anyway, even though the point of this vacation was to have some alone time before the birthday-- at least I gave him enough sugar to get diabetes, does that make up for it? The plot idea was that somewhere along the way, they just sorta bumble into their true feelings for each other, though on the surface their relationship doesn't change much. (Under the sheets, though...)
> 
> Anyway, just wanna say, happy birthday again, heika!

**Author's Note:**

> You know, for a Conrad tribute there isn't much Conrad... in this chapter, anyway.


End file.
